


Get in Loser We're Going Shopping

by orphan_account



Series: BrOTP Hermione and Draco [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Developing Friendships, Draco Malfoy in the Muggle World, Enemies to Friends, Fluff, Gay Male Character, Gen, Good Draco Malfoy, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lucius Malfoy's A+ Parenting, Male-Female Friendship, Mild Hurt/Comfort, POV Draco Malfoy, Shopping Malls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 04:58:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13563330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The summer before 4th year is Azkaban for Draco. So he decides to steal a car and visit his buddy, Hermione. During which he may or may not be exposed to intense shades of lipstick.





	Get in Loser We're Going Shopping

Summer was probably the closest I could get to Azkaban without actually going to Azkaban.   
Father and mother refused my requests to attend several pure-blood balls being held in Wizarding London. Perhaps, it was an attempt to erase my existence from the world. A son like myself is a disgrace to any wizarding family, let alone the Malfoys.   
So every day since the end of the third year I've been in my apartment. The majority of which I was holed up in my personal library, with my secret stash of muggle literature. Personally, my favorite is Pride and Prejudice though I may be on my way to becoming Mr. Darcy. A pompous, arrogant, fool.   
I quickly grew weary for Hogwarts and my dear friend Hermione. Obviously I was forbidden from speaking with her under the looming threat of a punishment. Punishments such as Father’s were not to be trifled with. However, something inside of me insisted on my rebellion. I ignored it on the grounds of self-preservation. Yet summer was not quite over and I have a sinking suspension that something is bound to happen. 

 

I had woken up at precisely 7:30 a.m. dressed by a long set of rules based upon my course of action for the day, which included a short walk around the garden, it would be the first time I left my room in two weeks. But that semblance of a normal teenager reared its ugly head. And I choose to follow my own desires instead of my parents. 

Dear Hermione J. Granger,   
I apologize for my lack of correspondence over the past serval fortnights, I was unable to think of a good enough excuse to indulge myself in friendship. However, I have chosen to write anyways. If I am to lie in this letter you would know, therefore the following is an accurate depiction of my summer.   
Father slapped me across my face only once when we reached the manor, as I have been spending most of my time within the safe confines of my bedroom. And when I do, I guarantee with a house-elf that my father is either incapacitated through drink or drowziness. Speaking of which I believe my mother has picked up my father’s drinking to distract from her failure of a son.   
Yet I wish not to be carried away by my own self-loathing. So do tell of your summer adventures.   
Your friend,   
Draco L. Malfoy 

 

The following events are likely to be considered highly illegal, thereby I wish to inform all listening to my story that I had no recollection of the multiple laws I was breaking at the time. Mainly because the laws were written in muggle doctrine.   
A list of broken laws  
1\. Running Away - leave or escape from a place, person, or situation of danger  
2\. Joyriding – defined by taking a car with the intent to return it  
3\. Underage driving – defined by a child under the age of 16 being unaccompanied by an adult or driving instructor

 

After slipping a Drought of the Living Dead in my parent's alcohol supply, I set out on a mile-long trek to the nearest muggle town. However, I found that I grew quite nervous. What’s your plan, idiot? You know you’ll get caught? What were you thinking?   
Then I saw the muggle metal horse. I had learned from popular media that muggle horses can range from sleek and expensive to repulsive and expensive. This one was obviously repulsive and expensive, but it would allow me to visit Hermione. 

 

Driving was easy. Despite my horrible fine motor skills, it was very simple to learn how to drive within the hour and be at Hermione’s door within two.   
The house was two-storied and situated on a small hill at the end of a culdesac. It was so unflinchingly normal. Did their neighbors suspect a witch living and growing at the center of a community? Did-  
“Draco!” I was sitting on the metal horse’s snout, which protruded from the body oddly and was slowly losing temperature.   
“Wonderful to see you again, Hermione Granger, I assume your summer was enjoyable.” She appeared shocked by my entrance.   
“What are you doing here? And Where did you get a car?”   
“I'm here to make my summer more pleasurable by spending time with a friend. I found the metal horse in a muggle’s driveway.”   
Hermione seemed shocked for several more seconds before she was able to understand that this was not that outside my personality.   
“Fine…fine…FINE!” She was exasperated, likely the result of my antics. “What do you want to do?” Her nose was pinched between her unmanicured nails.   
“I am not sure,” I said   
“You ran away, stole a car, and drove to my house to tell me ‘you don’t know’!”   
“Precisely.”  
She grabbed my hand and shouted at the Normal House, “Mum I’ll be out for a while!”   
Is that how muggles work? So trusting of their children that they let them go outside the property without an escort. Especially with a member of the opposite sex.   
“Where are we going?”   
“London.” She said. “And we’re using public transport.”

 

Public transport was similar to a cattle car, each muggle pressing against the other with a need to seek I had air and space. The less powerful are pressed against the glass in a fashion that shows the lack of property the whole occurrence entails. Along with the bodies of their comrades, the muggles drag on various objects of questionable use and origins.   
Despite this, the train was comforting. A steady bump and pressure, lulling me into a stupor.   
A shout rang out in the car, and for a second I imagined a gunman, similar to Hermione’s books, killing as many as possible and then I see myself six feet under in the Malfoy Graveyard.   
“Draco, we need to switch buses.” This is what this metal cradle is called, how quaint. 

 

It was 70 minutes and several seconds until Hermione and dragged me in front of a large building, bustling with people and energy.   
Mothers with shopping carts created a maze of people and children. Their husband's eyes were sunken in, a lack of sleep uncovered by makeup of any kind. Perhaps that is why I wear makeup, it hides my weaknesses. And it’s fun.  
I had never been to a muggle shopping center. The spaciousness was daunting. And to be honest quite frightening. What would happen if I was trampled, or lost my suffocating grip on Hermione’s hand? Would I be dead to the world? Lost among the average muggle.   
I was barely giving time to think about my predicament before Hermione was dragging me into one of several stores we would visit that day. 

 

Makeup –   
“Well I don’t wear makeup, I know that you enjoy painting on your face,” Hermione spoke to me in a condescending way, but I was too scared to rebuttle.   
I couldn’t help but laugh. I gripped her bicep as she leads me in.   
The sudden coldness on my face made me shut my eyes in fear of attack. But none came.   
“Welcome to Spectrum, how can I help you?” Suddenly I was eye to bosom with an extremely tall woman. Despite her stature, the smile and dimples were infectious. Somehow I felt welcome in a place I had never been in.   
“I-I-I…” Would she judge me like everyone else? Or would she be like Hermione, understanding, and patient?  
“You, babe, need a lip color! That nude look is eh, you look like the type to be popping!”  
I tried to shift myself behind Hermione, but she was having none of it. “Oh no you don’t Malfoy, you were the one that showed up at my door.”  
I left the store with several shades of red, green, and black. 

 

Books –   
We were slightly less energized and more sedated in the bookstore. The smell reminded me of Snape’s cabinet full of outdated potions books. A common place I was found for the first eight years of my life.   
But, these books were not about potions, in fact, not a single one was magical. Each was solely the by-product of a human mind, which is quite powerful if used correctly.   
I skimmed my knuckles over the romance section, however, I felt that most displayed unhealthy power imbalances. I avoided buying anything romance.   
I wandered to the next section.   
Then the next.  
And the next.  
And the next.  
I was lost in a labyrinth of pages. Books big and small. Children of creativity and hours of hard work Perhaps muggles are more complex then I thought. If some can achieve the ability to create worlds out of words and change millions of minds with a single sentence, it is likely that each one has the talent buried inside them. As I have a talent for magic.   
I ended up buying two books by recommendation of Hermione.   
One on the fundamentals of cooking.  
The other, on chemistry. I was skeptical of the one on chemistry, I had no idea what it was. For some reason Hermione was instant. 

 

We visited serval other shops for clothes before heading home. Or heading to Hermione’s house.   
It was time to go home. And return the metal horse

.   
Narcissa knew what her son did that day. But she couldn’t help but feel proud that her son was making friends. No matter how inappropriate. So she never said a word to Lucius.


End file.
